Why hello poppet
by Stelra Etnae
Summary: "Now aren't you a cute one," she purred, settling herself comfortably in the blushing nation's lap. The poor 1P's stood no chance. 2P!Nyo!England wrecks havoc in the canonverse. You have been forewarned.


_**Trying my hand at a new kind of character! I really do like writing undeveloped characters, it gives a lot of artistic freedom and space to chart new territory. It was great fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. This portrayal of 2P!Nyo!England is my own interpretation, and is not intended to offend anyone.**_

_**Rated T for 2p!Nyo!England. Why? Well... you'll see.**_

_**Onward!**_

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><p>It started, as many a story does, with a perfectly normal start to a World Conference. Nations were trickling into the room in the usual manner, taking their seats or lingering here and there to have a chat. All in all, perfectly normal.<p>

That is, until an unfamiliar lady sashayed into the meeting room, drawing surprised (and a few very appreciative) eyes.

The miniskirt that formed part of her khaki green military uniform was definitely not regulation, and the sheer black stockings she wore underneath accentuated her slim legs more than they covered them. Her chestnut blonde hair was tied up into jaunty twin pigtails, decorated with bright pink ribbons. High heels clicked smartly against the marble floor as she strode towards the conference table, hips swaying.

Germany stood. "Excuse me, miss, this is a private meeting room—"

The lady paused to turn around, her cerulean eyes lighting up at the sight of him. She advanced in a way that suddenly made Germany feel like addressing her was a bad idea.

"My, my, my…" Pink glossed lips curved as she looked him up and down as if he was a particularly delicious morsel. "Why hello there, handsome."

Yes, Germany decided, it had been a very bad idea.

Before he could try to salvage the situation (preferably something that involved putting the table between himself and the approaching terror), a sudden pressure on his arm made him glance down in surprise, to be met with a familiar mop of brown hair.

"Italy?"

The unknown woman had paused several steps away, one hand on her hip as she surveyed the scene with an amused air. She clicked her tongue lightly. "Well what do we have here?"

Italy glared in a very uncharacteristic manner as he clung tighter to Germany's arm.

The blonde twirled a stray lock of hair between finely manicured fingers, seemingly unaffected by the Italian's glare. After a long moment, she finally broke the tense mood with a giggle. "You can relax, darling, I don't go after taken men. Usually."

With that parting line that somehow wasn't reassuring at all, she turned her attention to the other nations seated near the head of the table. Her eyes lit up as she decided on her next target. The bespectacled nation gulped nervously as she slinked over.

"Now aren't you a cute one?" she smiled seductively, patting America's steadily reddening cheek. She dropped herself into his lap, crossing one leg over the other, watching with satisfaction as his gaze was drawn involuntarily down before hastily snapping up again.

She leant in, looking very much like the cat that had swallowed the canary. "What's your name, poppet?"

Her poor victim was feeling very much like said canary. "A-America." (No, his voice did _not_ trail off into a squeak, you were just imagining it. Yeah, that's right. He was the hero after all!)

She clucked her tongue reprovingly. "Your other name, darling. I'm Olivia, I'm sure we'll soon become very _well-acquainted_." She emphasized this by lightly trailing her hands down America's chest.

To say that America's face closely resembled an overripe tomato by this point would be a severe understatement.

Smile widening, she leant in further.

The door slammed open. "OLIVIA!"

Olivia straightened, turning languidly towards door. "Took you long enough, Arthur. Losing your touch? Those were just basic binding charms after all."

She was given no reply as the steaming Brit stormed over. The blonde pouted as she was dragged to her feet. "But Arthur…" she whined, "I was just having a little fun."

"You can have all the bleeding fun you want in your own world! Don't bloody barge into other dimensions whenever you like!"

"Aww, but the boys here are so cute to tease."

"That's not a valid reason!"

"You're no fun." A calculating gleam entered her blue eyes. A predatory smile grew as she hummed thoughtfully.

Refusing to look intimidated, England crossed his arms and stood his ground as she prowled closer.

Olivia unceremoniously looped her arms around England's neck, pressing her body flush against his. Her high heels just made up for the difference in height between them, allowing her to lean so close that their breaths mingled.

"How about _you_ give me what I want, Arthur, and I promise I'll go home like an obedient little girl? I don't mind, you can't blame me for being a little narcissistic, can you?" she whispered breathily before pulling his head down for a kiss.

Japan, ever astute, had long pulled out his trusty camera was taping the entire thing.

Finland threw his hands over Sealand's eyes.

England firmly took hold of her shoulders to push her to arms-length. "Rejected." Spinning her around, he resolutely steered her towards the door. "Now leave."

"Hmph, spoilsport. Unhand me, I can walk fine on my own." She tossed her hair disdainfully over her shoulder as she flounced away. "Fine, I'll go to Oliver's world, Allen is always up for a good shag." A lily-white hand tugged playfully on the collar of America's bomber jacket as she passed. "You're welcome to join us if you want, sweetie," she said with an inviting wink.

"Olivia!" England ground out, at the end of his patience.

"My dear Arthur," Olivia said sweetly, "You really need to get laid."

The addressed nation spluttered incoherently.

"See you around, darlings," Olivia made her exit with a flirtatious waggle of fingers and a blow-kiss. "Ta-ta!"

"Don't even think about coming back!" England fumed, stalking out after her. The door swung shut behind them.

After a long moment of silence America finally blinked, recovering his senses to voice the very question on all of their minds. "What just happened?"

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><p><em><strong>Yes, I ship 2p!America x 2p!Nyo!England. So sue me. (Actually I didn't even know until I started writing this story.) Though it's actually more of a friends-with-benefits thing, but still. It's hot.<strong>_

_**So! Author's Note time!**_

_**Just a quick little name guide in case anyone's confused: Olivia (2p!Nyo!England), Oliver (2p!England), Allen (2p!America).**_

_**My headcanon is that all four version of England have magic, and this includes the ability to hop dimensions. 2p!Nyo!England particularly delights in this, popping over to annoy her counterparts, especially the 1p!s (because they're just so fun to tease, you know).**_

_**Going on from there, my portrayal of Olivia is, as you can see, a huge flirt (somehow she ended up giving off the feeling of a cougar in the guise of a cute young girl O_O). As 2p!s usually are, she's the opposite of her counterpart Alice (Nyo!England) who is a very straight-laced and proper British lady. The outfit I used for Olivia here (the British military uniform) is partially a matter of aesthetic preference and also to display how 2p! dimensions tend to be more politically unstable than the canonverse.**_

_**Sorry for rambling on, but do leave a review before you leave! I really appreciate it.**_


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